‘It’s Henry, please.’ He turned back to Flo, his cheeks reddened at the formality in the mention of his title.
‘Oo right oh then, Henry it is.’ Flo chuckled. ‘I just wanted to say — you look so much better without that disguise.’
Not having the heart to tell her that the beard, collar-length hair, and clothes had all been his own, Henry nodded his thanks and smiled. As he walked through the door and along the corridor, still brimming with stock, he could hear Ed Sheeran playing on the radio, and Ava humming along. When she came into view, he took a fortifying breath before speaking.
‘Hello.’
Ava dropped the bag of donations she was holding and swung round. ‘Henry! Sir? Lord? Oh, bugger! Which is it? Sorry. I never expected . . . and you look . . . you look so shiny and . . . posh!’
Henry laughed out loud, as Ava’s cheeks coloured. He liked the fact, being a redhead, she could never disguise her blushes as they spread over her naturally pale skin.
‘Good posh or bad posh?’ Henry rubbed his hand round his clean-shaven chin.
Ava looked at him, appearing to ponder the question. ‘Good, definitely good.’ She smiled before seeming to correct herself with a frown. ‘I was very sorry to hear about your dad. This must be a very difficult time.’
‘Yes. Thank you . . .’ About to go into his well-rehearsed response, Henry breathed. This was Ava, he didn’t want to pretend to be anyone but himself with her, and he certainlydidn’t want her to feel she needed to treat him differently. ‘It’s . . . it’s been bloody awful, to be honest. But you know that.’ He gestured to the newspaper clipping regarding Ava’s mum that he had seen on the noticeboard on his previous visit, before continuing. ‘You’ve lost your mum.’ He saw the flicker of sadness in Ava’s eyes and wanted her to know he understood. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I know . . . well, I know no matter what, it hurts.’ He pulled at his tie, sliding the knot down and opening his top button before pushing his hand through his hair.
Fixing her gaze in his direction, Ava walked towards him, making his heart thud against his chest. His mind jumped to places he realised she never intended, as she leaned around him to take a reel of price labels from the shelf behind him. He let out a breath and wondered if she noticed. Labels in hand, Ava hesitated in front of him.
‘Did you come here to talk about the loss of our parents and how sad that is?’ She looked at him, the question reflected in her eyes.
Henry inhaled her fresh, clean scent —orange and bergamot —her proximity making him think about all kinds of things that had nothing to do with a sensible conversation, parents or responsibilities. ‘No.’ He looked at her full red lips, wishing he had got to kiss them more than that once.
‘Good! So how would you feel about getting out of here? I need to check on Myrtle and, if she seems up to it, I was going to take her for a walk in’ — Ava offered a hesitant smile, chewing her lip a little before finishing her sentence — ‘your woods?’
Henry laughed, releasing the tension from his body. ‘That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard in a long time!’
Ava looked at him. He had forgotten how her eyes lit up as she smiled.
‘I’m so pleased you said that because if you’d opted to stay and talk instead of going for a walk, I’d have had to put youto work on some of this.’ She gestured to the pile of random items on the sorting table, before heading towards the office, scribbling a note, and taking her jacket from the coat stand.
Henry walked to the table. ‘I’m not sure I’d be much good to you here. Sorting things at Dapplebury House is enough of a headache.’
‘Don’t you have help?’ Ava returned from the office pulling her scarf from her pocket and circling it around her neck.
‘Hmm my mother, and the enigma that is Mrs Jenkins.’
‘Mrs Jenkins?’ Ava asked, turning off the clothes steamer and the radio.
‘Yes, my inherited PA. In fact, if you’ve got a bell I can attach to her, or some clogs I can give her, you’d be doing me a —BLOODY HELL!Mrs Jenkins, how long have you been standing there?’
Henry jumped, his heart hitting the back of his throat, as he registered the woman in the doorway as if he’d conjured her with the mere mention of her name.
Apparently unperturbed by the fact she’d almost given him a heart attack, Mrs Jenkins looked between Henry and Ava, suspicion in her steely eyes, as she opened her black patent, snap-top handbag, took out a cloth, removed her glasses and wiped them.
‘I neglected to remind you. Ms Flynn is, of course, the tenant of two properties on the estate — this shop, and the land and buildings they call Critters’ Lodge.’
‘Yes, thank you. I am aware of that.’ Henry offered a tight smile and a nod, curtly dismissing Mrs Jenkins who he half expected to disappear in a puff of smoke, opposed to turning on her heels and walking back along the corridor towards the shop.
Ava grimaced and put her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle a giggle she couldn’t hold back. Her laughter was infectious and made Henry feel more relaxed than he hadsince returning to England. There would be a time to talk rent increases — that had to be done. But all he could think about was having some time alone with Ava. He hadn’t lied when he said her suggestion of a walk was the best he had heard in a long time. And he didn’t want anything to spoil that.
Chapter Seventeen
When they reached Critters’ Cottage, Ava turned to Henry. The sight of him in his classically styled suit, pushing her “Princess” black Pashley bike up the gravel path, made her smile. ‘You didn’t have to push my bike for me, but thank you.’
‘You’re most welcome, my lady.’ Henry faltered. ‘Sorry, I meant because of . . . I didn’t mean . . .’ Embarrassment coloured his cheeks as he positioned the bike next to the porch and kicked down the stand.
Ava screwed up her nose. ‘It’s fine. I knew what you meant.’
